


Things Dean Doesn't Know

by storyofeden



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Abuse, Domestic Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-12
Updated: 2012-04-12
Packaged: 2017-11-03 12:21:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/381297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storyofeden/pseuds/storyofeden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day Sam came home and confessed to his family that he was gay, John Winchester simply patted his back and said, “ok.” Mary hugged him and kissed his cheek. Dean’s response was, “Told you they wouldn’t care.” The thing was, John and Mary Winchester understood love. </p>
<p>They didn’t worry about either of their boys, having raised them well. At least, until Luc came along. Then, John and Mary Winchester worried.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things Dean Doesn't Know

The day Sam came home and confessed to his family that he was gay, John Winchester simply patted his back and said, “ok.” Mary hugged him and kissed his cheek. Dean’s response was, “Told you they wouldn’t care.” The thing was, John and Mary Winchester understood love. They knew its ups and downs, its pitfalls, and its tendency to consume one’s whole being. For them, it didn’t matter what gender their boys loved, as long as it was good, healthy love.

They didn’t worry about either of their boys, having raised them well. At least, until Luc came along. Then, John and Mary Winchester worried.

 

 

“It’s happening, Mom.” Sam was frustrated, pacing the living room. “Luc and I have it all planned out. We’re leaving tomorrow for California. He’s got all these ideas and we’re gonna make it real big, Mom. You’ll see.”

“Sam…” she sighed. “I’m just…not sure this is such a good idea.”

“I love him, Mom. I do. And he’s promising me the world. He cares about me. He loves me, too.”

Mary stood and hugged her youngest son. “Okay, angel. You better go finish packing.”

The next morning, Sam threw his bags in Luc’s backseat and hugged his dad.

“Be careful, Sammy. Okay?” Dean whispered in his ear during a hug. “Here’s some back-up…in case you need it.” He stuffed a wad of cash in Sam’s pocket.

“Thanks man.”

“Samuel.” Mary smiled sadly. “You can always come home. Remember that.”

Sam nodded and kissed her cheek. He and Luc got in the car and they were off.

 

 

Six months later found Sam and Luc in Las Vegas. They never made it to California. All the money they’d started out with, even Sam’s emergency money, was gone.

“You’re late.” Lucifer stated as soon as Sam walked through the door and into their crappy apartment.

“I’m sorry, Luc.” He wasn’t sincere. “I just got done working the first of the two jobs I have that keep us on our feet. Excuse me if it doesn’t adhere to you schedule.” As soon as he said it, he knew it was a mistake. Luc didn’t respond well to disobedience.

“You little ungrateful bitch.” His fist swung and hit Sam square in the jaw. He could already feel a bruise forming when another blow hit his eye and a knee rammed his stomach.

Between exhaustion and lack of sleep, adding in the pain, Sam collapsed and blacked out right there on the kitchen floor. They couldn’t afford a nicer apartment or food. Anything Sam got to eat was stolen on his breaks between serving people at the all-night diner that was his second job. He scraped money together to pay the bills. His life wasn’t what he’d thought it would be. His dreams had disappeared. Any “big plans” Luc imagined had been drowned months ago in a fifth of whiskey and a case of beer.

By the time he’d woken up, he was already late for work. He arrived only an hour or so late.

“I’m so sorry, Ruby.” He pleaded to his boss. “I—”

“Sam.” She clipped, motioning for him to follow her.

“Ruby, I’m sorry.” Sam prepared for the worse. If he lost this job, they wouldn’t be able to make payments. And no one else in the area was hiring. He didn’t have a car or anything so—

“Boy, if you apologize on more time, I’ll fire you.”

His eyes went wide. “You mean…”

“I’m not gonna fire you for being late for the first time ever. Especially when you come in looking like this.” She brought out a large make-up kit from behind her desk. Sam sat very still in front of her as she applied foundation and cover-up to the bruises adorning the left side of his face. “Did Luc do this?”

“Yes.” Sam whispered sadly.

“Sammy…” She murmured. Ruby had always been affectionate toward him. “There’s places you can go and—”

“Where? The battered women’s shelter? I don’t think so.”

“Sam…” She sighed.

“I love him, Ruby.”

His boss nodded in understanding. She’d seen a lot. You don’t grow up working in a place like this by being ignorant.

“Get to work, then.” She said, letting him go.

That certainly wasn’t the last time Ruby helped fix him up.

 

 

“He’s not doing well, Dean.” Mary fussed. She was wringing her hands, the phone held in the crook of her shoulder. “Something’s wrong, I just know it.”

That much Dean had figured out on his own. The fact that Sam would only text or email, never call, was a big tip off. He could tell almost anything from the sound of Sam’s voice, which made it obvious something was up.

“I know, Ma.” He sighed, pressing his thumb and forefinger against the bridge of his nose.

“It’s got to be that boy. I knew he was no good for our Sammy.”

“He’s too stubborn, ain’t he?”

“It’s that Winchester pride in him. He gets that from your father. You both do. He just doesn’t want to admit to himself or us that he made a mistake.”

There was a pause. Dean could practically hear his mother thinking. “Whatever plan you’re cooking up ain’t gonna work.”

“But Dean, honey, it’s Sam. He’ll listen to us if we all go up there and knock some sense into him. We can get him to leave that devil of a—”

“Ma,” He interrupted her. He won’t respond well to an intervention. You know that.”

“Yes…I suppose I do.” He could hear her start to cry. “I just don’t know what to do.”

Before Dean could stop himself, he was leaving Bobby’s in the Impala, on his way to Las Vegas.

 

 

Sam had never been allowed to divulge their address, even to his family. At least, that’s what Dean kept telling himself, that it wasn’t Sam’s fault. Luc took the brunt of Dean’s anger, unbeknownst to him, of course. He hadn’t really eaten since he left Bobby’s. The only thought running through his mind was, “Sammy…My Sammy.”

Dean pulled up the “Hungry like the Wolf” and wanted to smile. He really wanted to because, of course, his little brother worked in a place like this.

“Where’s Sam?” He demanded as soon as he walked in the door.

A woman with long dark hair and wide brown eyes, set in a scowl, sidled up to him and nearly growled. “Who’s askin? And why would he be here?”

“Listen, lady. He wouldn’t tell me his address, but he said he worked here. I’m his brother, okay? And his—”

“Asshat of a boyfriend is an abusive bastard? Yeah, I know.” She scribbled down an address and handed the paper to him. “Kick his ass.”

“I plan to.” Dean nodded a goodbye to her and ran for the car.

 

 

At nineteen years old, most boys wouldn’t cry if you paid them to. However at this moment, Sam was not ashamed to admit that he was crying like a baby. His whole body hurt. It hurt to breath, let alone move or do anything else. He didn’t dare attempt to get up, even if he could. Luc may have stopped for a while, but that didn’t mean he was done. Sam had learned that one the hard way. So he stayed on the floor in the miniscule hallway and cuddled against the cool wall.

 

 

If Dean wasn’t already sick to his stomach, seeing the shithole Sam lived in would have done it. Looking at it made him feel the need to shower, let alone living there. With a deep breath and a give em hell attitude, Dean climbed the steps to the third floor.

 

 

Sam knew the night wasn’t over. He woke up, still on the hallway floor, to the sound of cabinets being slammed and glasses breaking. Luc’s heavy footsteps rattled the floor as he approached Sam.

“Goddammit, you little cocksucker,” Luc picked him up by the collar of his shirt. “Where’s the rest of my booze?”

He didn’t have the mental capacity to save himself. “You drank it all.”

The last thing Sam remembered was the look in Luc’s eyes and a fist connecting to his own temple.

 

 

Dean heard the shouts as soon as he hit the third floor landing. How their neighbors ignored it, he would never understand. He didn’t pause to knock, just shouldered his way into the apartment. The practically cardboard door never even stood a chance.

Of course, neither did Luc.

As soon as Dean took the four steps to get to him, he had Luc in his hands. Dean pounded his face until he was satisfied with the swelling and waited for him to stand up. Luc stood, and practically snarled at Dean.

“Oh, it’s Dean. Should I be shaking in my shoes?” he taunted.

Dean, fueled by an anger he hadn’t had in a long time, grabbed him and slammed him against the wall. One hand held the other man’s hand behind his back, the other held is face to rough building.

“How. Dare. You,” Booth seethed, emphasizing his point by crushing Luc’s head into the grimy wallpaper. “How dare you lay a finger on my brother, you low-down, immoral piece of shit. Did it make you feel good? Did it help you sleep at night? Because I can guarantee that for every time you did so much as think about hurting him? I'm going to give you back 10 times worse. You ever touch him again, come near him again, or even think about him ever again, and you will be eating nothing but jello and applesauce for the rest of your life. IF you're lucky.”

Every breath Dean took was full of hatred. If he wasn’t so worried about Sam, who may or may not have been breathing, he might’ve killed the man. “Sammy is special. More than you could ever comprehend in your tiny little caveman brain. You don't deserve him. You don't deserve anyone. If I EVER see your face again, you will have answer to me. Got that?"

Dean leaned in and whispered directly in the bastard’s ear, “And next time, I won’t be so nice.”

 

 

The majority of Sam’s weight rested on Dean as they walked out of the hospital.

“Come on, Sammy,” he helped lower Sam into the Impala, and then ran around to get in the driver’s side. “Everything’s gonna be just fine, okay? Luc is never gonna touch you again. I won’t let him.”

Sam mumbled noncommittally, wanting, needing, so badly to believe him.

“I found us an apartment, too. Ruby helped out. She’d been looking for one you could move into just in case.”

“Ok.”

They pulled into the lot outside Ruby’s diner.

“I love you, okay, Sammy?” And I’ll always be there for you. Nothing will ever change that.”

 

 

Dean was at work, which left Sam in the apartment. He’d quit his day job and Dean and Ruby conspired, insisting that he rest up and heal fully before coming back to the diner. Sam loved Sudoku and Die Hard marathons as much as the next guy but two solid weeks was too much.

He was in the kitchen foraging for food when there was a crash in the neighboring apartment against the shared wall. Sam froze. Images of an angry, drunken Luc flooded his brain. Fear constricted his throat.

“No,” He whispered to himself. “No, no, no, no…”

There was another sound, maybe glass breaking, followed by an agonizing scream.

Sam straightened. This wasn’t about him. He’d already been saved. Injuries or no, someone in the next room needed him. He hobbled into the hallway, took a deep breath, and tentatively knocked on the door.

 

 

“Sir? Mr. Winchester, are you with me?”

Sam’s head hurt. His chest hurt. His everything hurt.

“Mr. Winchester, I need you to wake up.” The voice was nice enough, but whoever it was kept shaking him.

He just groaned in response and partially opened his eyes. The room was unbearably bright, so he immediately shut them back, sleep claiming him once again.

 

 

Dean never came to the hospital. In fact, Sam hadn’t seen him since he left for work that morning 6 days ago.

Growing up, Dean was wrong about a lot of things, most of them inconsequential. But this…this was far from meaningless. Dean had told him that everything would be okay. Dean had told him that he would always be there to protect him.

Sam grimaced, attempting to smile against the pain as Luc led him out of the hospital.

There just…must be some things Dean doesn’t know.

**Author's Note:**

> Based this off of the song "Things a Mama Don't Know" by Mica Roberts.


End file.
